


How Am I Supposed To Feel?

by xxxbookaholic



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AI AU, Alternate Universe - Artificial Intelligence, Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Space, Artificial Intelligence, Banter, Fluff, Futuristic, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Oneshot, Short Story, alternate universe ai, because he's an AI, it doesn't strictly state romance, kind of, learning how to deal with feelings, lev is a pilot, levyaku - Freeform, yaku is an AI, yaku is bad at emotions, yakulev - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:48:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24546424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxbookaholic/pseuds/xxxbookaholic
Summary: Yaku continued to stare out the window. “How would you describe this view?”“Beautiful, spectacular, perfect, pretty, bright,” Lev continued to name off adjectives, eventually tilting his head to look at his AI helper. Yaku didn’t look back. He continued to stare out the sky. If his expression was capable of changing, Lev imagined he’d probably look beautiful. Immediately, though, he snapped out of that mindset. Yaku wasn’t a real person. He never would be.“Beautiful,” Yaku murmured. He continued to stare for a few seconds before turning to face Lev, presumably snapping back to business.orLev is supposed to be the confused one, and Yaku is supposed to be the one who helps him. Instead, it turns out to be the other way around.
Relationships: Haiba Lev & Yaku Morisuke, Haiba Lev/Yaku Morisuke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 56





	How Am I Supposed To Feel?

**Author's Note:**

> This is based off of a request I got from someone on tumblr! I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you like reading it! If you want to check out any of my work, take a look at my profile and/or take a look at my tumblr account (@.xxxbookaholic). Please send me writing requests or just asks in general on my tumblr!
> 
> Music That Reminds Me Of This Fic:
> 
> So This Is Love from Cinderella  
> Bubblegum by Clairo

**_Lev's Solo Mission:_ **

**_Day 3_ **

“Do you not know basic math?” Lev glanced over his shoulder to see the staticy projection of his ship’s AI, Yaku, standing behind him. The image glitched out for a second, and suddenly Yaku’s 2D projection was beside Lev, glancing over his shoulder.

Lev turned his head back to the paper he had been writing on, where the led on his pencil had snapped and rolled off of the table. “Of course I do,” he huffed, “I’m just not very good at multiplying.”

“Remind me again; who let you on this mission? You should have remained on Mars with the rest of civilization,” Yaku hissed. His hand went out to slap Lev’s shoulder, and if he wasn’t merely a projection, Lev would probably be screaming for ice.

“Kuroo said that it would be good practice if I want to be a main pilot someday!” Lev protested, desperately trying to wrack his brain for the answer to 13478 x 34567 in an attempt to prove Yaku wrong.

For a second, Yaku’s figure faded from view, but the projection soon went back to normal. “Kuroo isn’t here,” he said. His voice was half-muffled due to the glitch, but for Lev, he was very easy to understand.

“But he hosted it! Originally, Kenma was supposed to come along to guide me, but he said he was too busy and just wrote down a list of directions. Very _vague_ directions.”

“I’d much rather be helping Kenma pilot than you,” Yaku rolled his eyes, hand going to rest on the table. Of course, though, the moment it touched solid iron, his hand disappeared from view. “Of course, though, he’d much rather play some dumb video game than help with the exploration of Earth.”

“He isn’t playing video games! Kenma said that he has important business to tend to,” Lev argued, still aggressively scribbling tornados onto his paper rather than scratching down numbers.

“Important business to him means napping and video games,” Yaku said bluntly. Of course, though, Lev expected nothing _but_ bluntness from the ship’s AI. It wasn’t like any of the other AI on Mars were known for sweet-talk and sugarcoating. Minus Sugawara, of course, who’d been created so long ago that he’d picked up the art of kindness just by being around and learning from so many people.

Instead of responding, Lev began to draw 13478 lines 34567 times.

“Do you need me to just tell you the answer?” Yaku asked, narrowing his eyes at the paper.

“No!” Lev said stubbornly, continuing to draw.

“Fine.”

Yaku and Lev stayed in a comfortable silence as the latter continued to (attempt to) solve the problem. After about thirty minutes, Lev screamed, “Aha!”

“What’s the answer, _pilot_?” Yaku mocked, glitching out once more when he said the last word. _Changing the tone of his voice must be hard for AIs,_ Lev figured.

“The answer is…” Lev did a dramatic pause and added a drum roll for good measure, eliciting yet another eye roll from his AI helper, before yelling, “47892845!”

“Wrong!” Yaku snickered. His arm went up to hit Lev’s shoulder once more. Like the last time, though, his hand merely glitched to the other side of his shoulder. “The answer is 465894026.”

“I was close!”

“No, you weren’t. Now hurry up; the ship isn’t going to pilot itself. Besides, you need to contact Kuroo soon. You’ll lose your chance in about,” Yaku flickered away and came back a few seconds later, stating coldly, “three hours.”

With that, Yaku disappeared for good, leaving Lev to rush to the piloting room.

**_Day 9_ **

Lev was just about to fall asleep when he felt the air shift beside him. Blinking his eyes open, he ended up nose-to-nose with Yaku’s projection. Yelping, Lev sat up, pressing himself against the wall in shock. Seeing Yaku usually meant that he did something wrong.

Yaku’s image flickered for a second, and he ended up being mid-sentence by the time Lev could hear him. “-wants an update on your whereabouts.”

“Huh?” Lev blinked in confusion, tilting his head.

Yaku sighed in exasperation, a disturbing sound that sounded similar to a TV whenever the screen went fuzzy mid-channel-switch. “Kuroo wants an update on how the mission is going.”

“Later, Yaku-san. I’m tired,” Lev groaned, moving to crush the pillow around his face. Right before he could close his eyes again, the light in his bedroom flicked on, obviously the sign of his AI helper having enough.

“Right now,” Yaku hissed. His voice rang of finality before he flickered away. Very aware that his AI would just mess with the ship’s controls until Lev finally got up, he weakly stood up and stumbled to the telegraphy machine. He pressed random buttons until a staticky sound began to transmit from the speaker.

Almost immediately, the sound gave-way to a voice. More specifically, Kuroo’s voice, the man who had declared the need for the mission Lev was currently on. “Hello, Lev, do you copy?”

“Yup,” Lev mumbled into the machine, eyes still fluttering closed every now and again.

“Good!” Kuroo’s voice was much too loud for Lev’s current state of mind. _Too loud_ was most certainly not an opinion he had very often. His disorientation was only further proof of how tired he was from working on the ship day in and day out. “How’s it going?”

Lev groaned into the machine, “fine. I’m about… Yaku, how many days out are we from earth?” At Yaku’s name, he flickered into view, standing right next to Lev.

“Thirty-one days until we get to earth,” he answered, his staticky voice going straight into the direction of the machine.

“Perfect! All you’ll have to do when you get there is set up the camera I sent along with you. Try to find a good place for it, will you?” Kuroo sung. “Alright, I’ll let you get some rest. Safe travels.” Lev could just barely hear the sound of Bokuto in the background before the line cut, leaving behind staticky sounds once more.

“Check the direction the ship is heading one more time before you go to bed, will you?” Yaku said, more a statement than a suggestion.

Lev twisted around to look Yaku’s figure up and down. Due to him being an AI, he still looked like himself. There were no eyebags, no fluttering eyes, no yawns. Seriously, Lev needed to ask Kuroo about making him more realistic. Yaku’s clear, perfect imagery made Lev feel self-conscious.

“Why don’t you do it? You’re the AI after all,” Lev muttered sleepily, “isn’t it your job to help me out?”

Yaku rolled his eyes. The action looked robotic, which Lev supposed was the point, but it still made him feel even more like he was talking to a fake projection rather than a person. It only served to make him feel even more lonely on this mission. Lonelier than he thought he’d be, anyways. “My job isn’t to take the mission on all by myself just so you can slack off.”

After a second, though, Yaku seemed to give in. _Or maybe he was just programmed to accept commands,_ Lev’s brain supplied. Of course, though, that wouldn’t make sense with all of the arguments they’d had in the past nine days. “Fine. Get some rest. Don’t think I’ll be doing this again, though, okay?”

Before Lev could speak his thanks, Yaku flickered away, leaving no trace of him left other than the lights in the bedroom mechanically switching off.

He sauntered to bed and collapsed on top of his blankets, not even bothering to situate himself comfortably before he drifted off to sleep.

**_Day 12_ **

Lev looked over Kenma’s instructions again for the fiftieth time, still confused about how he was supposed to navigate the temperature in the spaceship. While piloting the ship, he’d accidentally pressed his elbow into a random button. Luckily, it hadn’t sent him off track. Unfortunately, it made the temperature way too humid for his taste.

Of course, as per usual, Yaku was being zero help. Well, he was trying to be of help. He was just doing it in his own way. Lev didn’t like Yaku’s way.

“You want the AC on?”

“Yes! Just because you’re an AI and don’t feel the difference in temperatures doesn’t mean I don’t either!” Lev huffed.

Yaku pointed his flickering hand towards a blue button. Ever since their tenth day in space, he’d been getting glitchier and glitchier.

“Oh!” Lev breathed in relief, pressing down on the button. Almost instantly, the ship began to clear out the hot air, replacing it with a temperature that he could stand. “That’s much better. Thanks, Yaku-san!

“ _Some_ of us know how to work the basic controls of a spaceship,” Yaku hissed instead of acknowledging the gratefulness radiating off of the pilot.

Instead of letting Yaku’s harsh words get to him, Lev stated, “’intelligence’ is literally in your name! Artificial Intelligence!”

Yaku’s expression didn’t change, not that Lev expected it to or anything. AIs weren’t exactly known for being expressive. _More suggestions for Kuroo,_ Lev noted mentally. Of course, Kuroo didn’t create or modify AIs. Far from it, actually. What he did have, though, was close connections to a few inventors, such as Daichi, Iwaizumi, and Tsukishima.

“Anyway, look out this window! All of the stars are so beautiful!” Lev quickly changed the subject, pointing excitedly out the large window that was situated just over the control panel. The main color was black, but scattered throughout the black was a full-on palette of colors. Purple and blue mixed together in an almost mist-like pattern, and within the colors were bright white and yellow specks.

Yaku did look out, but instead of smiling, he merely asked, “what am I supposed to feel about this?”

_Of course_ , Lev thought, _most AIs wouldn’t have the emotional capacity to enjoy a view_. “Awe. Excitement. Wonder,” Lev answered fondly, resting his chin on his hand, careful not to knock into yet another button or switch.

Yaku continued to stare out the window. “How would you describe this view?”

“Beautiful, spectacular, perfect, pretty, bright,” Lev continued to name off adjectives, eventually tilting his head to look at his AI helper. Yaku didn’t look back. He continued to stare out at the sky. If his expression was capable of changing, Lev imagined he’d probably look beautiful. Immediately, though, he snapped out of that mindset. Yaku wasn’t a real person. He never would be.

“Beautiful,” Yaku murmured. He continued to stare for a few seconds before turning to face Lev, presumably snapping back to business. “It’s fourteen-thirty-two and you still haven’t eaten lunch. Go get some food. You’ll need to stop the ship and inspect the outside in about forty-five minutes.”

The moment Yaku finished his comment, Lev realized just how hungry he was. Nodding eagerly, he stood up from his chair and wandered to what he’d come to call the kitchen. Travel food wasn’t particularly pleasant, but it wasn’t horrible either. Unfortunately, he’d already run out of the chips he’d stocked for the trip.

The air shifted, and Lev knew that Yaku had flickered out from view, leaving behind no evidence that he was there. Despite this, though, he knew that his AI helper was still there, consciousness projected all around the walls and mechanics of the spaceship. _Maybe he wasn’t as alone as he often felt he was._

**_Day 16_ **

Lev was, yet again, struggling to solve math problems. Except this time, rather than wondering how to multiply long numbers, he was trying to figure out how to subtract 745602 – 957329. It wasn’t his brightest moment, he’d admit. Still better than when he broke Kenma’s toaster and had to clean the whole house as an apology, though.

“How does it feel to be bad at things?” Yaku suddenly asked. Lev had been aware that his AI was projected beside him, staring over his shoulder, but he hadn’t expected him to talk.

“Are you mocking me again?” Lev huffed, dropping his pencil and crossing his arms. With AIs, it was hard to tell. There were only a few AIs, most of them owned by inventors, that were able to clearly show emotions and speak in several tones.

Yaku shook his head, glitching out as he did. “No. I’m curious, seeing as I’ve never really been _bad_ at anything.”

Lev completely turned to his AI, his eyebrows twitching in disbelief. “You’ve been bad at things.”

Yaku chuckled, “what could I possibly be bad at? You said it yourself; ‘intelligence’ is in my title.”

“You’re bad at feeling things,” Lev pointed out, crossing one leg over the other and tilting his head. “How does _that_ feel?”

“How is it supposed to feel?”

Lev turned back to his paper, picking the pencil up once again and continuing to attempt the problem. “Irritating. Frustrating. Annoying. Confusing.”

Yaku continued to hover by Lev’s shoulder, staring at the paper nonchalantly. “Confusing,” he finally stated, after about three minutes of silence. “It feels confusing.”

Lev stilled for a few seconds before nodding. “There’s your answer, then.”

Eventually, Yaku told Lev the answer. Before the latter could thank the AI, though, Yaku flickered away. He was out of sight, but still there in presence. If AIs had a presence, that was.

Lev finished up his chores around the ship and sent the spacecraft in the right direction multiple times throughout the day. Yaku helped, switching around mechanics and such, but his projection didn’t appear for the rest of the day. Lev pretended the loneliness didn’t bother him.

**_Day 22_ **

“How does being tired feel?”

Lev jumped when the sudden voice came from beside him. Being tired, he hadn’t even noticed when Yaku’s projection had appeared beside his bed, staring down at him. It looked almost like he was attempting to show some sort of expression, his eyebrows twitching just slightly and his hands fidgeting just barely.

“It feels like I’ve just run fifteen miles without stopping,” Lev mumbled, allowing himself to get comfortable once more when he realized that nothing was severely wrong.

“How does _that_ feel?” Yaku persisted.

“Like I’m absolutely exhausted. It feels like I don’t want to even open my mouth to talk. It feels like I don’t want to move a muscle. It feels like I need to stop and close my eyes every two seconds,” Lev groaned out. He was drifting farther and farther into sleep as he continued to describe being tired. Eventually, when he stopped, Yaku flickered out.

Right before completely fading, though, the AI murmured, “I wish I could feel tired.”

Lev didn’t ponder about Yaku’s words for very long. Instead, he drifted off to sleep.

**_Day 25_ **

Throughout the days following the ‘tired’ incident, Yaku got better and better with his tone of voice. He’d almost perfected sounding truly exasperated. A good example of that was on the 25th day away from Mars.

Lev was searching for cleaning supplies. He’d spilled orange juice onto the couch, one of the only cushioned seating areas available on the ship, and was desperate to dry it off. Yaku was trailing after him, sporting his new-and-improved voice as he continued to rant about how ignorant Lev must have been to not know where the cleaning supplies were after so many days in space.

“I was a little too busy making sure we don’t crash into an asteroid,” Lev kept repeating whenever Yaku took a break from speaking. He looked under counters and in high cabinets, attempting to look for at least a few napkins. “You know, you could probably just _tell me_ where the paper towels are!”

“It’s not my job to clean up after your messes,” Yaku protested. “It’s _my_ job to make sure you don’t press the wrong button on the control panel and send us flying off-course. It’s your job to listen to me and navigate.”

Lev rolled his eyes, “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really!”

Yaku didn’t dignify the argument with yet another comment. Lev decided to pretend his ~~unhelpful~~ AI wasn’t even there. It proved useless, though, when he decided that finding the cleaning supplies was impossible and instead opted to fall on the floor and whine for help.

It took a while, but eventually Yaku gave him the benefit of the doubt and pointed him in the right direction. Fifteen minutes later, he was back in his room, taking a break from chores. He turned on a little bit of music and allowed it to blast around the room. It was an old song, by one of the few artists whose music managed to make it through the years on Mars.

Yaku continued to hover by Lev’s door, looking around the room skeptically. Finally, he spoke up. “Is listening to music relaxing?”

Lev glanced up hesitantly. “Sometimes.”

“Ah.”

They fell into yet another comfortable silence, merely listening to the tunes in tranquility.

_“It’s you, it’s you, it’s all for you,_

_Everything I do._

_I tell you all the time,_

_Heaven is a place on Earth with you.”_

**_Day 29_ **

“You know, it’s kind of lonely being up here,” Lev suddenly piped up. He’d been sitting on the now-dry couch, rereading the same sentence of his book over and over again. Yaku had been sticking around him more and more, to the point where it almost felt like he was a real person. Of course, though, there was always a point where Lev snapped back to reality.

The breaking point now: Yaku wasn’t sitting down. Instead, he was projected right next to the couch, posture careful and almost elegant.

Now, though, Yaku turned his head to glance at Lev. “Lonely? You aren’t alone; I’m here with you.”

Lev sighed, finally putting his book down and resting his head on the armrest. He took a moment to think about speaking again. “But you aren’t human. You don’t have the same presence Kenma or Hinata would. I can’t even touch you. Hell, _you_ can’t even touch anything!”

Yaku looked down to the ground. Yet another semi-expression was showing on his face; conflict. His next words seemed much quieter than they were, “but I’m trying.”

“Trying what?”

He looked up. “To feel something.”

They held eye contact for a few seconds longer before Lev finally turned onto his side, facing the back of the couch. “For the record, you aren’t either,” he mumbled.

“I’m not what?” Yaku asked, his voice glitchy, as if a few chunks of audio were missing.

“Alone.”

**_Day 30_ **

“Smile. Like this!” Lev demonstrated his best smile. He was perched on the foot of his bed, looking at Yaku, who was standing right in front of him. For once, he wasn’t flickering or glitching.

The AI attempted to smile. It was a complete fail. The only signs of movement on his face was the slight twitch of his lips.

Lev chuckled at the sight. “That was bad!”

“You know what’s bad?” Yaku hissed, reaching his hand out to mock-slap Lev. He’d been doing that a lot since they began their mission together. “Your piloting!”

Lev slammed his hand onto his shoulder as if it hurt. He could practically feel the amount of pain that would have caused him if Yaku was human. “You’re so mean! Demon AI!”

Yaku mock-slapped him on the shoulder one more time for good measure before turning and beginning to walk towards the doorway. “Come on. You still have chores to do. Break times over!”

Lev hopped up from his bed and raced towards the piloting room, eager to see the view once more.

**_Day 37_ **

“Wake up!” Lev heard somebody hiss. He blinked his eyes open to see Yaku hovering over him, completely nonchalant. The only signs of emotion were his clenched fists.

Lev wiped his face and groaned, sitting up. “What could you possibly need from me? Another lesson on what being tired feels like?”

“No. Just go down to the storage room,” Yaku said, his voice suddenly taking on a somewhat softer tone.

_The quicker I finish this, the quicker I can go back to sleep,_ Lev thought to himself as he slowly but surely got up and trotted out of his room. The first thing he saw was the mess. The couch was knocked over, there was a bit of blood on the corner of one of the counters, and there was dust where Lev had just (reluctantly) swept.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he continued to the storage room. Whatever he thought was wrong, it wasn’t what he saw before him.

What he saw before him was nothing.

Literally nothing.

Nothing remained in the room. The camera he’d been supposed to place on Earth was gone. The cords were, too. Everything that made this mission a mission was gone. “What happened?”

“Some bitches from Kepler-62f,” Yaku hissed. Lev was sure that if he had mastered the emotion, he’d sound and look angry.

Kepler-62f was an exoplanet that, just like Mars, housed human life. They weren’t quite as peaceful as the civilization Lev was from, though. Rather, they were the opposite. They were known for stealing from spaceships and causing trouble for everyone else. Still, though, Lev hadn’t expected he’d ever have a run in with them.

“They—” Lev’s voice broke mid-sentence— “they took everything?”

Yaku was silent for a long time. Lev didn’t need an answer, though. It was already obvious; nothing had been left. He sat down on the ground, resting his face in his hands and breathing deeply, trying to force down the tears that were threatening to overtake him.

His first mission was a fail. He allowed some dumb thieves to steal a device that had taken years to build. Everybody, especially Kenma, told him that he wasn’t up for a mission, let alone a solo mission, but he’d insisted that he could do it. That he could succeed and become an official pilot. Clearly, though, that wasn’t the case.

_How could he be so stupid?_ Lev’s body was shaking now, shuddering with sobs. He didn’t even notice that Yaku was standing in front of him, flickering and attempting to kneel in front of the taller boy, until he was sitting in front of him.

“It wasn’t,” Yaku began hesitantly, as if he wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he wanted to say, “your fault.”

Lev shook his head violently, refusing to look his AI in the eye. Yaku, too, had been convinced that he shouldn’t have been on the mission. “You’re lying to make me feel better. If I had been awake, or if I’d been a lighter sleeper, I would have been able to stop them!”

“Look at yourself. You wouldn’t be able to stop a fly!”

Lev looked up and fixed his gaze on Yaku’s emotionless eyes. “Not helping, Yaku-san.”

“Sorry. But seriously, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything about what just happened. Come on, get up. We need to contact Kuroo and tell him what happened. He should be on shift by now. And if he’s not, Kai definitely will be.”

“But I can’t just tell them! It’s all my fault,” Lev whined.

Yaku hesitated for a second before stating, in all seriousness, “it be like that sometimes.”

“What did you just say?” Lev pressed, tilting his head quizzically.

“You heard me. I thought it would be reassuring. That’s what Kenma says every time something goes wrong, and he usually recovers pretty quickly afterwards.”

They stayed silent for a second before Lev laughed. It started out quiet and reluctant, and eventually developed into a full-on laugh, having to cover his mouth to keep from practically wheezing.

“What are you doing?” Yaku asked. He glitched to the point of standing once more.

Lev recovered from laughing for long enough to answer. “Laughing! It means I’m happy!”

Yaku’s fingers twitched ever so slightly. “What does being happy feel like?”

“Light. It feels like I’m a tiny bird, flying above all of my problems, allowing any issues I have to sink into the ground. It feels like… it feels like I’m on top of the world. It feels nice,” Lev answered, looking up at Yaku fondly.

Yaku suddenly met Lev’s eyes. Suddenly, his face broke into a semi-smile, the largest sign of emotion he’d shown in the past. “I feel happy when I’m with you.”

**_Day 37_ **

“Alright, Lev, Yaku’s right; it wasn’t your fault. Everyone who lives on Kepler-62f are scheming thugs. Come on home and we’ll figure out what to do about the camera. I’m sure Daichi wouldn’t mind rebuilding it if he got a few volunteers.”

Lev nodded, even though Kuroo couldn’t see him. “I’ll be right there. And I’ll help out with the building process, too. As an apology.”

“Good. I’ll see you then.”

“Right.”

**_Five Months Later_ **

“Hey, Daichi-senapi?” Lev suddenly asked, looking up to glance at the inventor he’d been helping out ever since he got home.

Daichi met Lev’s eyes. He stood up and wiped his greasy hands off on his pants. “Yeah, Lev?”

“How did you make Sugawara-san so realistic?”

Daichi’s eyes softened at the mention of his AI. “Ah. Is this about Yaku?”

Lev nodded, leaning back down so he could work as he talked. “I was wondering if you could do a little bit of tweaking so it would be easier for Yaku to express emotions. He’s been trying really hard since my failed mission, but it’s really hard for him due to how he was programmed. I just want it to be easier for him.”

Daichi was quiet for a few moments before nodding. “Sure. Do you have his projection box?”

Lev visibly brightened. “Yes! It’s in my closet, so I’ll bring it in tomorrow! Thank you!”

The inventor chuckled, continuing to work as he spoke. “Of course. But you’ll be helping me, Lev. And it’ll cost you, as well. I don’t work for free.”

Lev nodded, far too up in his own world to come down at the mere idea of money. Yaku would be ecstatic when he told him! Well… as ecstatic as an AI could be, that was.

Still, it was official. Yaku would finally be able to do what he’d been trying to do for months.

_I can finally share the full extent of this world with him._

**_Five Years After The Mission_ **

“You have a call!” Yaku’s projection suddenly appeared in front of him. Ever since the tweaking, his appearance had been clearer and cleaner than ever. And on top of that; he could finally show most of the emotions he wanted to.

Lev nodded, smiling at his AI before making his way to the kitchen where his phone was, in fact, ringing. The moment he picked it up, Kuroo’s staticy voice came in from the other side. “Are you ready for another shot at your mission?”

“Is the camera ready to be set up?”

“Yup,” Kuroo said. His excitement was easily heard through the phone.

“Then if you’ll let me, I’d like a second try.”

“Come by Kenma’s place at two. There were a few upgrades to the camera, as well, and so he can explain to you how to set it up.”

Lev finished up the conversation as quickly as possible. The moment he set the phone down, he spun on his heel and smiled at Yaku, who was standing right behind him. “You hear that? We’re going to Earth!”

Yaku chuckled light-heartedly. His eyes were soft; softer than they’d have been able to be years ago. “Then what are we waiting for?”


End file.
